


Run

by autumnsolstice9



Series: Robb & Arya [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, not starkcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 13:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7641301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnsolstice9/pseuds/autumnsolstice9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt: Things you didn’t say at all</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run

Robb Stark knows that there is a disconnect in his family. He is training and studying on how to be Lord of Winterfell, so he must learn to pick up the nuances in people.

At first, he does not realize what the issue is. Nothing in Winterfell has changed- his father still watches over the training yard, Catelyn pretends Jon Snow doesn’t exist, Jon Snow pretends to ignore Catelyn’s hateful glares- nothing is different. It is not until a portrait of the Stark family is commissioned that Robb begins to see the rift in his family.

His mother insisted on hanging the portrait in the Great Hall, and he often finds Arya staring at it. For the life of him, he cannot figure out what is so interesting about it; it’s not as if his sister doesn’t see their faces everyday. He watches as Arya’s lips tilt downwards in a silent frown, her eyes full of something he cannot name, clenching her fists at her side before running outside to play with Nymeria. 

He catches her staring at it a few more times, always silent, and sometimes she is accompanied by Jon. His half-brother isn’t included in the portrait at all, something which irks Robb and no doubt frustrates Arya. When they stand next to each other, he can’t help but notice how similar they look- each with dark hair curling around their long face, grey eyes glinting in the light that streams through the window. Their skin is as pale as winter snow, so different from Robb’s ruddy complexion, and he can only watch from afar, too afraid to interrupt the silent moment between his brother and sister.

Jon’s eyes glance over the painting, but Arya’s stay glued to one spot. She whispers something to Jon, something that Robb can’t hear, but his brother draws Arya into a hug before they run from the room together, chasing each other out of the castle.

Robb stares at the portrait once they leave the room, but he sees nothing unusual about it. It is just their family, sans Jon, standing together, but in his mind he sees his sister’s deep frown and knows he is still missing part of the puzzle.

***

Robb takes to observing Arya, his mind consumed by what his sister is not saying. He tried to ask Jon at one point why the painting was so important to her, but his brother just shook his head and gave his solemn smile.

He sees his sister run around Winterfell, chased around by Bran and Rickon. He watches as mother takes Arya by the arm and scolds her, amused by how much trouble his sister can get into, until he sees her frown. “You will never be a lady like Sansa if you do not behave!” Catelyn yells, and then there is the clenched fists and unreadable eyes he saw on her only when she looked at the portrait before she smooths her expression over.

Sansa smirks from her place next to their mother, Bran continues to chase Rickon, Jon watches with a clenched jaw, and Robb notices his father turn a blind eye towards the situation as Arya begins to stomp away to her room. “I swear,” his mother mutters darkly, “she is more wolf than girl. She’ll never be a lady with the way she acts.”

His mother does not see how Arya tenses, her body as rigid as a bowstring, or how her ears turn red. His sister pauses in her movements, only for a second, before she runs to her room as if fleeing something she fears.

 _Perhaps_ , Robb thinks, _what mother said is something she fears._

***

When Robb passes the room the Septa has put Arya, Sansa, and Jeyne Poole into, he hears tinkling laughter and stops to listen. “Why would you know anything about being a lady? You’re just Arya Horseface,” Jeyne taunts, “You’re nothing like Sansa. Just an ugly little girl.” Sansa laughs at that, and Robb peers into the room, expecting Arya to punch the girl in the face.

 _I would like to punch her myself for being so cruel to my sister_ , he thinks, trying to get the fire in his blood to cool.

When he finally catches a glimpse of what is happening in the room, he sees Arya’s face as impassive as a stone wall. Her lip wobbles slightly, but she doesn’t even react to the girls teasing her. To say Robb is surprised is an understatement- he is used to Arya fighting anyone for anything. His youngest sister seemed prepared for the verbal attack, and though she does not fight the girls she does get up and run to flee the room.

She bumps into Robb on her way out, and then the tears start falling. “Arya-” he begins, but she runs away down the hall, and he cannot catch her.

When he does find her, she is in the Great Hall, once again studying the portrait. One hand is pulling on her hair, bringing it in front of her face and frowning at it before grabbing another strand. She eventually lets out a sob and runs out of the room, probably to find Jon, leaving Robb alone in the hall.

He still sees family, but his eyes are somewhat open and he sees how in a sea of red, there are only two black stains- one of them his father, the other Arya. It begins to click into place why she told Jon her problem, because he too was the black sheep of the family. She was the one with the Stark looks, the rest of the family resembling the Tully side. She was the one with the wolf blood, the one who could not be a lady and please their mother despite everything she did.

He thinks of how Arya ran through the Godswood, how her feet moved swiftly through the forest. At one point he thought that she was just eager to play, but now he can’t help but feel she is practicing for the day she runs into the woods, ready to join the wolves. Perhaps she will never feel completely comfortable at home, surrounded by red hair and blue eyes, and she will run to people that understand what it means to be different. He thinks of how each time he sees her, she seems to be running from something- whether it be a painting she feels she doesn’t belong in or a sharp word from her mother- her feet moving as quickly as they can.

Robb knows the truth now, even if he will never know how she feels, but he is certain that when she runs to freedom, he will run by her side, ready to catch her if she stumbles.

 _She won’t have to be alone_ , he thinks, _not when I am here_.

The next time Robb sees Arya staring at the portrait, he joins her, pointing out the tiny similarities between her and the rest of the family. The smile on her face does not reach her eyes, but she gives him a hug that says the words of love and thanks she cannot form, and when she leaves the room, her feet move quickly, but she does not run.


End file.
